


Camping

by Amoreanonyname



Series: We Time [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Camping, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean Winchester in Denial, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hormonal Dean Winchester, Idiots in Love, M/M, No Smut, Pining, Swearing, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24099214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amoreanonyname/pseuds/Amoreanonyname
Summary: Every time Dean swore he would never go camping again, Sam would hit him withthose damn eyes.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: We Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1734664
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	Camping

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially going to be solely a cute and cuddly camping fic. I didn't mean to write Dean going feral with pining, but I kinda wrote Dean going feral with pining.

Every time Dean swore he would never go camping again, Sam would hit him with _those damn eyes_ , and somehow the next thing he knew, he’d be driving into some state park with a tent in the trunk. Dean swore the guy had some kind of leftover psychic mind control bullshit going on. The world should be damned grateful that Sam Winchester had chosen good over evil, because that bastard could rule the world if he wanted to. 

Okay, it was great that the guy had finally learned to occasionally let go and relax, but _camping_? Dean preferred his vacations to involve a real bed and a TV. What the fuck were they supposed to do in the woods all weekend?

It was fucking freezing, and Dean kept eyeing their tent warily, wondering if they’d both fit in there. It looked pretty cramped. 

Sam was being a total geek, and it was cute as hell. Starting fires from scratch, tramping around looking at plants and shit with a book in his hand like some kind of overgrown boy scout. Okay, even now the guy didn’t _really_ know how to relax. Even on a damn vacation, he had to be working, had to be doing something, even if he shifted gears from hunting. Dean teased him about it, but he thought it was kind of adorable.

Admittedly the evening was nice. Good, clear night. Sam had spent _God knows how long_ trying to get a fire going without a light, just because he wanted to try it that way, and he finally got it. Dean had pigged out on s’mores, they’d had a couple drinks each, the sky was clear, clear, clear. They’d hung out looking at the stars before, but this was probably the furthest they’d been from civilization, the most stars Dean had ever seen in the sky. 

Sammy was nerdy about stars too, pointing out all the constellations Dean didn’t know about or had barely seen before. Dean let him ramble on. Sam’s voice was soothing, and he had to admit the whole thing was pretty relaxing.

Both laying back, drifting in and out of chatter, Dean realized Sammy was starting to fade. Elbowed him in the ribs.

“Come on, Sasquatch, you’re too big to carry off to bed.” 

The hard-built fire was reluctantly extinguished, jackets and shoes and pants were quickly shorn as they climbed into their too-small tent. Slotted in side-by-side.

Dean had that weirdly familiar sensation of practically roasting on the side with Sam on it, while freezing on the other side. Cramped in together, he wondered how they were going to sleep tonight.

He could feel Sam looking at him in the dark. Could practically _feel_ Sam’s frown. Then some noisy zipping, and a soft _whump_ on top of Dean. And warmth.

“ _Tell me_ if you’re gonna freeze to death, Dean. There are extra blankets in the car if you need them.” 

“I don’t need any extra blankets.” said Dean, practically sullenly. He actually did feel pretty good with Sam’s sleeping bag on him too. 

Turning to look at his brother, Dean almost started at how close they were. Lying on their sides, there were only inches between them. Not much more than Dean’s still-sealed sleeping bag.

Sam reached over and touched Dean’s cheek. Reached down and tugged the sleeping bags up further. Sidled himself in closer, until he was pressing on Dean through all the fabric.

“It’ll warm up in here in a minute.” He said softly. For a split second, Dean didn’t know how to take that. For a split of that split second, Dean felt _hopeful_. For a split of that split second, lying there with his brother against him, a million miles away from everyone and everything, their faces inches apart. Dean wanted to warm up the tent. He wanted the sleeping bags gone. He wanted to lean in just a little closer. He wanted to feel the heat they could make.

But of course, that wasn’t what Sam meant. That was just Dean being tipsy.

The next morning, Dean woke up at what must have been the ass-crack of dawn. The tent was bright, and in place of last night’s cold, it was now hot as hell, and Dean was thirsty as hell and had to piss but also had a piss-boner and needed that to calm down before he could get up.

Sam, usually the one who was up with the sun, was somehow still sound asleep, more peacefully than usual. Dean had woken up curled into Sam’s back. 

Dean was a bit taken aback by just how close Sam was. Sure they slept “together” all the time, in the car, in motel rooms, but not… _together together_. Not all pressed up like this. Dean had to resist the urge to throw an arm over Sam. Press his face into the back of Sam’s neck, into his hair. For a crazy second he wanted to _kiss_ the back of Sam’s neck. Force of habit, usually if he was sleeping beside someone, that would all be fine.

Dean didn’t usually wake up with morning wood pressed against Sam’s ass, for sure. With only Dean’s sleeping bag and their shorts between them. That was not a regular occurrence. Dean was pretty sure he must have thought in his sleep that Sam was a woman. 

Sam shifted in his sleep, and _parts_ of Sam slid against _parts_ of Dean that _definitely_ didn’t normally happen, and felt a lot better than it should. When was the last time Dean had gotten laid? He thought he’d aged out of raging hormones, but sometimes when it had been too long and he got close to Sam too long, things got _weird._

Dean made a mental note to take some shore leave soon.

Maybe camping wasn’t so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, feedback always welcome!


End file.
